


A Taste of Honey

by saltandbyrne



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Age Difference, Community: spn-masquerade, Extremely Dubious Consent, M/M, Obsession, Oral Sex, Pedophilia, Special Hell Express, Teacher-Student Relationship, Underage Jensen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-01
Updated: 2018-10-01
Packaged: 2019-07-23 13:48:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16160174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saltandbyrne/pseuds/saltandbyrne
Summary: Written for round 5 of spn_masquerade for the prompt:Mr. Padalecki (or Mr. Ackles) has become tormented by daily interactions with one particular student of his, infatuated, a heavy crush developing. He might even be in love. And he teaches 4th grade.I went with Mr. Ackles for this one.(Jared is 8, please proceed with caution).





	A Taste of Honey

 

Jared’s such a smart kid.

Jensen runs one finger down the worn dog-ear of Jared’s worksheet page.  Jared Padalecki dots his i’s the same way he writes his division signs, with little circles.  “Like a girl” isn’t a kind or politically correct thought, but it makes Jensen’s hand shake as he ticks off neat little checks by Jared’s perfect answers. 

 

~

 

It’s always been enough, just being near them.  Stealing a few seconds of secret-soft headscent when he helps with an errant mitten, savoring the popsicle tang of prepubescent sweat when he tends to a skinned knee.  His tenderness is appropriate, his touches parental and proud even when they linger a second too long.  Jensen lives his life on CCTV. 

Candied lips with halos of crystallized sugar, blue tongues and ice cream chins.  A picked-away scab teasing at the garish pink inside.  Sandbox fingers all grubby, downy eyelashes that sparkle in the light of recess and Jensen’s soft praise.  A pencil bit between uneven teeth.  Jensen’s favorite things are safe for prime-time television and parent-teacher conferences. 

With Jared’s shoulder blade cupped under his hand, Jensen helps him carry over an eleven to the next column.  There’s two years yet between Jared and double digits. 

It’s always been enough. 

 

~

 

 John, Paul, George, and Ringo.

Keeping pets in the classroom has become controversial with some of the new teachers, but Jensen thinks they’re a good idea.  Caring for animals engenders empathy, responsibility, and pride, all traits Jensen wants to see in his students.

Crawfish are a good balance between cute and creepy.  Entertaining to watch as they wave their claws in defiance of their captivity, they’re not so lovable that students cry when one of them dies. 

Jared loves feeding them.  In the quiet afternoon glow of “structured study time”, Jared patiently waits his turn.  The precious tip of his elf-nose wrinkles up as he dangles a piece of lettuce over the fab four.   

“Remember, Jared, not too much.”

“I know, Mr. Ackles.”

Half-past one in the afternoon brings out all the gold in Jared.  He looks up at Jensen, radiant.

“I just want to make sure Ringo gets some.”

Jared guides a leaf to the runt of the foursome, the one with the notch in its claw. 

“His brothers don’t let him eat.”

Jared’s face bears the injustice of the whole world in that statement.  Such a tender heart.

“Good thing he has you.”

It’s just a quick ruffle of Jared’s hair, rated G for “that Mr. Ackles is such a nice man, isn’t he, Sherri?” 

Jensen spends that night in a blistering shower, jerking off to the ghost of babysoft hair on his palm. 

 

~

 

Children can be cruel.

John Manning’s daddy isn’t a nice man, and his son has the same cold curl in his lip.  Violence is a cycle.  Jensen knows that John’s just a product of his ill treatment, but all the same, he can’t find much sympathy for the child when he throws a tub of paint in Jared’s face.

“Let’s get you cleaned up.”  Jensen brings his lunch every day.  There shouldn’t be room for butterflies in his stomach.

Wet paper towels don’t deserve to touch Jared’s soft skin.  Jensen wipes away fuchsia streaks, like any shade of pink could ever compete with the swell of Jared’s candy-bait lips.  In the name of cleanliness, in the name of kindness, Jensen lets his thumb linger on the fat plush of Jared’s bottom lip.  In the siloed quiet of the art-room sinks, Jensen stares, presses his grown-up thumb against fourth-grade pink, traces the path of each little mole around Jared’s heavenly body of a mouth. 

Jensen can ignore the ache in his cock, but he still brings his thumb to his lips when Jared darts back to the other children.

 

~

 

“Mr. Ackles?”

Teachers don’t have first names.  Jensen smiles, happy for any chance to look up from his after-school grading and see Jared’s face. 

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course, Jared.”

Jensen rolls his chair out from behind his desk.  Jared would fit perfectly in between his legs. 

“Is it okay to, um, to think about boys.  Like, instead of girls?”  Jared stares at his feet, a high blush creeping onto his cheekbones.  A hum settles over Jensen, seeping into the marrow of his bones.

“Of course it is, Jared.”

Don’t touch, don’t touch, but of course he does, chucks Jared under the chin until he makes eye contact.

“Can I tell you a secret?”  Jensen always knows when he’s alone with Jared, but he makes a show of checking the room to be sure.

“I like boys, too.”

Wide-eyed is such a good look on Jared.

“I won’t tell if you don’t.”

Jared nods, the point of his chin rubbing against Jensen’s knuckle.  Even Jared’s sharp parts make him feel good.

 

~

 

Jared has a loose tooth.

Right there in the front, lower left.  Jared worries it with his tongue when he’s solving math problems or watching Ringo wave his ruined pincer at this cruel world.  One small square of pearled white undoes a lifetime of restraint.

 

~

 

“You want to see what boys do with each other, Jared?”

There are no cameras in the halls of Jensen’s house.  A few phone calls and a fake event and Jared’s all his, as easy as destiny.

“Yes.”  Jared’s whisper is as serious as his spelling quizzes, eyes wide and his hands clutching at the hem of his hoodie. 

“You know they kiss, right?”

Jensen’s the perfect height when he’s on his knees.  Jared’s barely-nod brushes their lips together, a moment of contact that makes Jensen’s eyes roll back.  He licks into a mouth that’s probably never seen anything bigger than a toothbrush and surely disgrace, prison, death, anything is worth this.

“Open up, Jared, perfect.”

Are they all cool on the inside like this?  The slim shell of his ribcage is warm under Jensen’s hands but his tongue is as fresh as icebox milk.  An unkissed mouth, a treasure.  Jensen traces over honey-chapped lips and wriggles the tip of his tongue over Jared’s loosie.  Everything about Jared is brand-new, even on the inside.  Tugged out of his sweatshirt and Richardson Lions t-shirt, Jared’s soft and pale under his farmer’s tan, kitten cream for Jensen’s purring mouth. 

Jared’s hair is even softer than he’d remembered. 

“Have to do something for me, Jared.”

Jensen barely drinks, never did drugs in college like his friends.  This must be what madness feels like, letting his hands roam over every inch of Jared’s quiver-taut body, teasing out the huffs and sighs of little boy secrets.  He strips them both down to their underwear, Jensen’s cock an obscene bulge against the damp halo of his fly.

“Okay, Mr. Ackles.”

Jared’s wearing Spiderman briefs.

“We’re gonna pretend you’re my boyfriend.”

Jared’s eyes never leave him as Jensen pushes Jared down to his knees, not until Jensen slides his boxer-briefs down and lets the heft of his cock rest in his hand.  Wet at the tip and pulsing in time with his crooked heart, it’s fat and ugly with bad intention, everything Jared isn’t.

“Open your mouth, baby.”

Over a trembling lip and the picket fence of his front teeth, Jensen can barely fit the head into Jared’s mouth.  Jared’s panting, his chest huffing and puffing in time with the short bursts of breath from his nostrils. 

“Doing so good, Jared.”

The probing flick of Jared’s tongue into his slit almost does him in.  Jensen guides another inch in, more than Jared can take by the wet cough that rumbles out of his throat.  There are tears in the corners of his eyes.

“That’s it, that’s it,” Jensen shushes, a low voice for tumbles off the monkey bars and spilled milk. 

“You’re, oh, you’re such a good boyfriend, Jared.”

With his hand cupping the side of Jared’s face, he drags his cock along Jared’s teeth, catching the ridge right on Jared’s milk tooth, tugging once, twice, and then he’s done.  Jared’s nose wrinkles at the hot flood of Jensen’s come, surging past his tonsils with the force of years repressed. 

“So good for me, Jared, just for me, always—”

Before Jensen can even finish the nonsense spilling out of his mouth, Jared bends in half, his hand branding into Jensen’s thigh for support as he gags most of Jensen’s come back onto the floor. 

“Sorry, Mr. Ackles, I—”

“Jesus, Jared, no, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have … you just make me feel so good.”

Jared’s shaking where Jensen kisses his creamed mouth, ruined for good now.

“I’m gonna make you feel good, too, okay, Jared?”

Jared’s lighter than any bride in his arms.  He carries him to the bedroom, nestles him in pillows and clean sheets, soft things for the softest boy.  Jared’s tongue peeks between his lips as Jensen crawls between growth-spurt-long legs.

“Make you feel good, Jared, I promise.”

Jensen curls his fingers into superhero elastic and buries his face in the smooth, hairless heaven of Jared’s plump little dick, adding the baby musk of Jared’s twitching body to his long list of things worth dying over.

Jensen Ackles is in love.

  


End file.
